Hope in hyphae

Alternative title: 'Holy anthropomorphism, batwoman'

I started writing my first blog post just when the coronavirus pandemic hit, throwing us all into an unfathomable situation that we are still reeling from. Originally, I planned quirky, light-hearted posts about a subject that I love. However, it felt right, given the urgent tragedies facing our society and our environment, to offer alongside it stories of real hope that are long overdue.

Whilst nature inspires us in many ways - and for many people, including myself, it acts as a buffer to the stress of modern life - it is often the cute, cuddly or majestic that gets top billing. I would be lying if I said I wasn't drawn to powerful images such as a wildflower meadow bursting into life, or a pod of whales cresting the waves. I grieve, as we all do, when charismatic species which have survived millions of years are snuffed out for trivial human desires.

Granted, we will always find it easier to connect to creatures which have a spectacular presence; it is fundamentally true that out of sight is out of mind. The invisible and the meek suffer from a lack of adoration totally at odds with their earth-changing importance.

Fungi are a prime example of this.

When people do think of fungi, it is either with a sense of horror at the disease-causing, crop-pestering slimy fiends, or with a passing interest in their magical and otherwordly presence. Culturally, we are familiar with everything from the products of their work - Quorn, beer, wine, bread and Irn Bru (you heard me!) - to the red-and-white ‘fairytale’ fly agaric mushrooms (Amanita muscaria) emerging from the earth like an old friend in autumn.

Encouragingly, the tide is turning in their favour - they are starting to gain a foothold in public consciousness as the unsung heroes of the earth. My purpose here is to keep that momentum going, at least in a small corner of the internet.

Yes, the one on the left is pretty majestic, but the one on the right has many hidden talents. The 'lion's mane' fungus (Hericium erinaceus) has a reputation as a 'miracle memory medicine' and is used to ease dementia.

We have amazing mycologists such as Paul Stamets, Trad Cotter and Peter McCoy to thank for their decades of work on the 'mushroom movement'. In more recent times, fungi have also ridden into public consciousness on the coat-tails of trees thanks to authors such as Peter Wohlleben (author of ‘The Secret Life of Trees’). Beneath the forest floor, fungal networks are known as the underground messengers of the 'wood-wide web', often acting as an early-warning system against pests and diseases. We don't know if they have any other topics of conversation (yet) and unfortunately I don't speak Ent - if I did, you lot would be the first to know.

This fungal 'social security' system extends its aid to the young and ailing trees too, by allowing healthier specimens to 'donate' nutrients and water via mycelial-root connections. One touching example, described by Peter, was his discovery of an ancient beech tree which had been felled over 400 years prior - with 'just a stump' remaining - still surviving on the contributions of its neighbours.

Even within human society, fungi have a way of balancing the odds. All foragers are (fundamentally) on an even footing, separated only by knowledge, recklessness and attentiveness to the natural world - all of which can be overcome by people of any creed or colour. Indeed, marginalised groups such as refugees have often taken the opportunity to forge a rewarding yet precarious livelihood on the backs of wild mushrooms, often leading to cultural revitalisation and empowerment*.

I personally like to think of them as the druids did - as long-lived collectors of earthly wisdom - with a side of hope and heroism in a time of global ecological anxiety.

Their superpowers are truly difficult to overstate. I will post in future about how fungi were the first green pioneers, part of the original 'dream team' that established terrestrial life. But in a time when we are increasingly looking towards the future (however uncertain), our companionship with fungi is evolving too.

From across the world, fungi have stepped up to the plate to aid our environmental and societal ills.

For example, we know of mushrooms capable of hyperaccumulating radioactive contaminants to over 10,000 times background levels (see image); quite rightly, Paul Stamets has been working with them to heal the devastated landscapes around the site of the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear disaster. This offers hope for the extraction of contaminants from the landscape which would otherwise persist at meaningful levels for decades (the half-life of Cesium 137 is 30 years) and continue to diffuse hundreds of kilometers away from their origin. Considering that fungi were previously found in the epicentre of the Chernobyl nuclear disaster, this is not as far-fetched as it may sound.

Gomphidus glutinosus, the 'slimy spike cap' (or, as I prefer, 'cow nose'). Whilst it has a bit of an image problem compared to most superheroes - depending on who you ask - this is one seriously impressive radiation-catching dude.

Deep in the Amazon, a polyurethane plastic-eating fungus has been discovered, whilst the humble (and tasty) Oyster mushroom (Pleurotus ostreatus) thrives on a diet of petroleum - an ability which has cemented it firmly in the toolkit for cleaning up catastrophic oil spills. Many mycologists agree that we have barely scratched the surface of what they can do to repair our environment.

Our allies in the kingdom of fungi even offer hope in the climate crisis. This could fill a dozen books (and will fill more blog posts) in itself, so I will just leave you for now with an astounding fact I came across this year, despite the original discovery taking place 18 years ago!

An innocuous-sounding glue-like substance called glomalin is produced by arbuscular mycorrhizal (AM) fungi to make it easier for their hyphae to move and grow through soil. A study from 2002 estimated that glomalin locks in a third of all carbon in the world's soils, and has a huge role in stabilising the remainder. Better still, rising atmospheric CO2 actually prompts AM fungi to ramp up their growth and create more of this game-changing glue, helping their plant partners to adapt to climate change along with them.

Who could ask for better companions on this earth, really? It is time for the forgotten 'fifth kingdom' to bask in the adoration they deserve.

Be a voice for the voiceless, an advocate for the aesthetically challenged. And see our world fare better for it. More to come!

Mush love,

L.

References and recommendations

1. * "The mushroom at the end of the world" by Anna Tsing

2. "Mycelium Running: how mushrooms could help save the world" by Paul Stamets (& all of his other books!)

3. "Fantastic Fungi" - a documentary on my favourite subject (more info here - https://fantasticfungi.com/)

4. "The Secret Life of Trees" by Peter Wohlleben

5. "Radical Mycology" by Peter McCoy

6. Carbon Ladder (Youtube) - https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCSX2bfcI0BR-phhw1DGH7JA (musical mushrooms!)